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FolkHammer

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  • 2 months, 3 weeks ago
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  • Days had become weeks, weeks turned to seasons and seasons had passed into years.

    All I had known was The Quest.

    I had lost my squire in the early days; I remember not his name or face. My steed had perished on the road, left for the crows to pick. My armour, once burnished steel now grinds with corrosion as I walk the land. The mighty blade…Read More

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  • Folkhammer terrain: a tower

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  • I had the same dream again last night.

    I lay in warm, wet earth. It pulsed around me like a great beast.

    Faintly came a voice; a voice I knew. I pulled myself up from the sucking mud to find the source. The speaker’s words, I could not make out.

    Standing, I could see young Rybert; my squire. He leant against a mighty oak, perhaps a hundred p…Read More

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  • Creatures of Harrowfel

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  • Folkhammer Terrain: The Gaol Oak

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